Then and Just After
Crying for what
as we stand out
in the summer rain
this blackbird and I
drenched in longing
Blackbird in shadow
blackbird in the morning light
whether to look at
its red wing or black feathers
with you, or without you
Deep autumn
the song of the blackbird
is swallowed by the river
Memory of love grows dimmer
as leaves brighten and fall
And now in winter
with hailstones against the window
I hear it again―
the cry of the blackbird
then, and just after
Inspired by Wallace Stevens' Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.
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